In the Arms of an Angel
by themagdelene
Summary: Yes, I know the title is a song. It belongs to Sarah McLaughlin. But the story consists of my version of the story, with an Erik/Meg twist. Enjoy!


Disclaimer: All characters are property of Andrew Lloyd Webber and Gaston Leroux. There are also elements of Susan Kay's Phantom. All song lyrics belong to their respective artists. The songs used are: Cain from Vampire the Masquerade: Bloodlines, Sally's Song from Tim Burton's Nightmare before Christmas by Danny Elfman, 45 by Shinedown and Spiders by System of a Down. This came from the idea of what I would have liked to happen while Raoul was talking with Madame Giry about the Phantom, and the events afterward.

Meg had been watching with baited breath during the entire time the Phantom confronted Christine. _So, this was the mysterious Phantom_, she thought to herself as she gazed at his scarlet clad figure at the top of the stairs. He wasn't a phantom or ghost at all! He was merely a man, a grumpy and obviously love-struck man. As she watched the Phantom gaze at Christine, Meg's breath caught in her throat. He looked so adoring, so completely in love and it showed in his eyes, even though his face was hidden by that skull shaped mask. As much as she loved Christine, Meg couldn't help but feel a sting of jealousy. Not only did she have Raoul's love, but also this mysterious "Opera Ghost" they had all been so afraid of.

"Your chains are still mine, you belong to me!" Snarled the Phantom as he snatched the chain that Christine had been wearing and without another word, disappeared in a flash of smoke and light. It looked like a tornado of fire, but it was just effects made by a clever artist. Raoul chased after the Opera Ghost, and disappeared into the trap door. Meg stared in shocked silence, before turning to her mother. She started to speak, but she stopped when she noticed that her mother was no longer by her side. She swallowed lightly, her throat working in nervousness. She had been ordered to stay close to her mother during the party, since a lot of men had been watching Meg with lusty glances. She was suddenly very aware of their glances, and wrapped her arms about her chest. She had chosen to dress as an angel but the dress maker had made the neckline a bit too deep, revealing the tops of her breasts, which Meg was proud to say where much larger then Christine's. She didn't get to say she was better at Christine when it came to singing, but she was far more gifted when it came to certain physical attributes and her dancing.

Quickly, Meg left the group of people, who were now talking in low, hushed but excited whispers. She headed out of the main hall and down a small corridor that led to the room where her mother slept. She would wait for her there. Maybe her mother knew the identity of the Phantom? She had lived and worked there since she was a ballerina, a younger one then Meg was now. The shadows seemed to groan and whisper around her, making the goosebumps spring on her arms. She hated being alone in the dark Opera house. She had almost reached her mother's door when she heard something that made her heart stop; footsteps.

She spun around, but did not see anyone. She swallowed by a shriek of terror, knowing that she was being far too jumpy. "Who's there?" She called, her voice ringing in the darkness.

Erik had been following her for the past five or so minutes. He had seen the ballerina in Christine's company a few times, but had not paid much attention to her before now. She glowed in the low light of the hallway like one of the marble statues that decorated the Opera House, her hair the color of spun gold and her eyes a dark chocolate brown that almost appeared black in the low light. She was dressed all in white, with little angel wings sticking out the back of her dress. She looked unspeakably lovely, even compared to the beauty of Christine, which lay still fresh in his mind. When she spoke, he could hear the fear in her voice and he laughed softly, the shadows ringing with it. Meg jumped at the sound, and she backed up, her hand resting on the door knob.

"You know, it's dangerous for a girl like you to wander on her own." Erik spoke softly, his tone menacing.

"You!" Meg instantly recognized the voice. She hated how small, and frightened her voice sounded. "What do you want?" She said, fighting to sound a bit braver but she failed horridly. Erik's scarlet clad figure drifted out of the nearest shadow, his white mask flashing in the light. She stared openly at him, and his powerfully built body. He had a handsome form, and she found herself wondering what he looked like under the mask. She had not heard the stories from the other ballerinas, since she was usually asleep by the time they started sharing stories about the Opera Ghost, most of which from their own imagination.

"Is it so wrong to want to gaze upon a lovely woman?" Erik asked, watching her with his strange, amber eyes that glowed out of the darkness. Meg flushed at being called lovely, and she looked away from him, muttering under her breath.

"Not as lovely as some others."

Erik smirked lightly. Though his love for Christine blinded him to her true beauty, she was in no way ugly. "Just different." He murmured softly, thinking of Christine as he said this and Meg guessed it, but she did not speak her thoughts out loud. He continued to step ever closer to her, and she backed up even more, her back pressing against the wall.

"Stay away from me! I-I'll scream!" Meg said, fear practically dripping from her voice as she stared, wide eyed at him. Erik chuckled, and gave a foreboding smile.

"Now, do you really think anyone will hear you? The masquerade is still going on, and the music is quite loud."

Meg listened closely, and she could indeed hear the music from here. She swallowed, and Erik watched her slender throat working nervously. Erik suddenly rushed forward to her, pinning her slender form against the wall and before she could let out an ear-piercing scream, he clapped a hand to her mouth. Meg stared at him, eyes bulging in their sockets. He leaned close to her ear and spoke into it, his baritone voice ringing tantalizingly, making Meg shudder against him. "Do you think I have not noticed you too, little Giry?" He purred, his lips delicately brushing the curve of her ear. Though he held himself composed, inwardly he was shaking with lust. She smelled delicious and her body seemed so soft in his arms, like brushed silk.

Suddenly, she began to thrash and buck against him, her legs kicking up violently. She had powerful muscles in those legs, as he had seen from a distance as he watched her dance. He barely dodged getting kicked In the face. Erik caught her and crushed her slender form against his, inwardly moaning at the firm form of her body. She was desirable, but oh how he wanted it to be Christine instead. _What if you could have both of them? _Said a wicked little voice in the back of his head, and he chuckled softly, before leaning forward to sing something in her ear. "The piercing radiant moon, the storming of poor June, all the life running through her hair. Approaching guiding light, our shallow years in fright. Dreams are made winding through my head." Meg shuddered again, her eyes filling with tears of fright. He smirked at her, before leaning forward and running his tongue along the edge of her earlobe. She tasted excellent, salty and sweet. "Maybe this will teach you about wandering around here on your own." He stepped away from her and before she could stop him, disappeared into a room in front of them. Meg rushed after him, but when she stood inside the room, it was completely empty. No sign of the man who had assaulted her. She stood in the hall, shaking like a leaf before disappearing into her mother's bedroom.

"Come on now, mes Ballerines! We need to get this ready by tonight or the Opera will be a complete failure." Madame Giry said as she watched her ballerinas yet again fail the new dance steps they were practicing for the Phantom's Opera Don Juan. Meg's feet were killing her, and she wanted to rest desperately. Apparently, she wasn't the only one who thought this because there were soon many girls begging the Madame for a break.

Thankfully, the Madame soon relented.

Meg sighed and wandered off from the group. Usually, she was much more sociable but she didn't feel so this time. Not since Christine started coming around with Raoul all the time. She liked Raoul, liked him a lot. When he started coming around again, she had fancied the notion that she would be able to get him alone and possibly show him how appealing she could be. However, his attention almost immediately went to Christine and has stayed there since. Now all she wanted to do be away from him and Christine both, who used to be one of her very best friends.

She wandered around the crowd of chairs in the auditorium, watching as the other ballerinas chatted together and Christine sit in Raoul's lap, laughing as he tickled her chin with his hair as he leaned down to kiss her cheek. Jealousy bubbled in Meg and with a huff, she disappeared out of the auditorium. She was so lost in her own envy that she did not see the look of dismay nor hear Christine call her name.

Erik had been watching the group of people from above in the rafters, and his heart too swelled with raging jealousy as he saw Raoul and Christine together. How he wished it was he holding Christine like that, enjoying her company and the company of the others, eager to be his friends.

He hated Raoul and his foppish good looks. His eyes caught the pale figure of Meghan Giry, and from her tense posture, he could tell he wasn't the only one not happy with Christine and Raoul. He continued to watch the rehearsal but Meg did not return. Madame Giry seemed distressed at first, but one of the other ballerinas soon dismissed it as nothing. When the small group left, Erik turned to leave too but stopped when he saw the pale, delicate figure of Meg Giry reappear at the door way. She stepped up to the stage, her face shadowed with her long curtain of hair. The more Erik watched her, the lovelier she seemed to be. He leaned against a near by statue, and smiled gently as she began to dance the new routine on her own, perfectly and without misstep. She had gotten it the first time, but her feet hurt so badly at the time she could not do it. Now Erik was not much of a dancer himself, but he loved to watch others dance. Meg was superb. Now that he was paying attention to someone other then Christine, he could fully appreciate how beautiful Meg was. He watched her limbs twist and sway to the sound of unheard music, her long hair cascading like water across her shoulders. When she had finished dancing, she stood still for several moments, then softly, ringing in the silence there was the sound of singing. It was an alto voice, good in note and timid in nature, but not offensive.

"What will become of my dear friend, where will his actions lead us then? Although I'd like to join the crowd, in their enthusiastic cloud. Try as I may it doesn't last, and will we ever end up together? No I think not, it never will become; for I am not the one."

Her voice broke under emotion, and she stopped. She was no where near Christine's level, but she had not the years of training that Christine did. For someone raw, it was very good. And from what he could tell, she was also the one who wrote that little song. _Is that how you feel for Raoul? _Erik thought to himself. _Well, don't worry little Giry, you can have the fop when I convince Christine that I am the one for her.  
><em>  
>Meg sighed heavily. She was being stupid. There was no way Raoul would ever leave Christine, much less for a ballet rat like her. She moved to step off the stage, but lost her footing and with a cry fell from the stage into the choir pit. She whimpered as she rubbed her ankle, having landed right on it. She made to stand up, but was surprised when someone appeared at her shoulder, pulling her to her feet. When she looked up, her breath caught in her throat.<p>

It was the Phantom.

Erik smiled down at her. "You should really be more careful, ma petite." He led her to a near by chair in the orchestra pit, and she lowered herself into it easily. "Now, let's look at that foot. It wouldn't do to have the prima ballerina hurt before the Opera can go on." He knelt down and reached for her foot, but she jerked it out of his grasp.

"I am sure it's nothing. What are you doing here?" Meg sounded defensive, like she had been caught doing something obscene. Erik gave her a look, which silenced her immediately. He took the ankle back in his surprisingly gentle grasp, and began to inspect it. Meg stayed silent, watching him carefully. She still didn't trust him, but he did seem to know what he was doing. Even through the fabric of his gloves, she could tell the warmth of his hands and it made the Ballerina blush vividly. However, it was very low lit in the stage room at the time, so no matter how good the Ghost's eyes were, it was very unlikely that he would see it. This, she thanked God for.

"Seems like just a sprain." Erik said as he let go of her ankle and stood up again. "But you should stay off it for at least a day. Tell your mother what happened, I'm sure she'll understand." He turned to leave, but he stopped when Meg called him back.

"Did you hear me sing?" There was a little fear in her voice, like she was not used to people hearing her sing and the idea of being caught doing so was enough to frighten the little ballet rat. He stopped and turned back to look at her, his white mask flashing in the low light that surrounded them.

"Oui." He said simply, his gaze unreadable as he watched her.

Meg fiddled with her hands nervously, before saying in a slow, hesitant manner. "What did you think?"

"Well," Erik said in a slow manner, coming to stand in front of her again. "You're no where near as good as Christine," He paused when he saw her face fall but he continued on with his constructive criticism. "But it was no where near as bad as Charlotta." He gave a strange, half smile in her direction. She brightened, but only faintly. "You need training, that much is sure, but you don't have the voice for solos. You are the type for chorus singing or..." He gave a little playful smile. "a duet."

"Well, thank you, I guess." Meg said with a little shrug of her shoulders. "That is better then saying that it was the worst thing you have ever heard."

"If you were the worst I have ever heard, then I would have put you out of your misery without a second thought." Erik's reply came cool and uncaring, like the thought of killing did not perturb him in any way. It made Meg shudder. He smirked when he saw the delicate shake of her shoulders. "But you are not, so I won't." He considered her for a moment, before a sudden idea came to his mind. He still was toying with the idea of having both women at one point, and his idea would prove to be quite fun for them both, if it succeeded. He came over and sat next to her on another chair. "I'm going to sing a little snippet of song once, and then when I start singing it for a second time, I want you to follow along, okay?"

Meg blinked in surprise. Was he offering to give her a small lesson? She gave a little nod, showing she understood and slowly smiled.

When he started to sing, it was in a slow and gentle tones, the lyrics powerful in their turmoil and emotional stride.

"If I go, will you follow? Through the cracks and hallows? And I would be your Cain, if you would be here now."

Meg listened closely, following the tune and lyrics carefully in her mind. When he started to sing it a second time, a bit slower, she easily picked up. Now that she had a leader, her voice mingled perfectly in its alto tunes and followed his lead. He had sang with Christine before, but she had such an overpowering voice that he often had to play Meg's part in the song; the follower. Now that he was in control of the song, it gave him a power rush that thrilled him in ways that Christine never could. When the song was over, Erik nodded. "Good. As I thought, you do better with a partner then on your own. Your only problem is that you lack confidence, I think."

"Well, when you live in the shadow of little Miss Oh So Lucky and Beautiful, then-" The bitterness in her voice as she talked of Christine enraged Erik and his hand flew on its own as he struck her around the face. Meg recoiled from the force of the blow, a large mark welling up on her face. She reached up with a delicate hand, staring at him with wide eyes. His actions had surprised him as well. He had gotten a bit rough with Christine a few days past, but he had never struck her full on before.

"Meghan, I-" He started to say, remorse in his voice but she stood up fiercely, her eyes a light with an inner fire that told of a passionate soul that demanded to be respected. She stumbled a bit because of her sprained ankle, but she held her own.

"No, I understand. You, like so many other men, are blinded by Christine, as always. I guess this shows me that I should learn my place in the scheme of things." She said bitterly, her voice tinted with anger and hurt that surprised him. Tears began to well in her eyes. "I had thought you were starting to become my friend, Monsieur Ghost." As tears began to trek down her cheeks, Erik stood up and made to brush them away but she shoved him back with a forceful push. "Don't touch me!" She backed away from him, limping gracefully. "This just proves that a monster like you is not capable of kindness." She turned and left. It took her a while to limp to the door, but Erik was so shocked by her sudden rage that he could do nothing but stare at her as she left. Once she was gone, Erik gave a growl and punched his fist into the wall nearest to him. "Fine, fine," He snarled. "Let it be war, then." With a whirl of his cloak, Erik climbed up onto the stage and shimmied up into the rafters from a near by rope.  
>The events over the past few weeks were a blur to Meg at the moment as she ran through the crowd down into the catacombs to find Christine. She had guessed that the passageway from the mirror lead down into the Phantom's lair, and when he had disappeared with Christine after she had unmasked him, she knew that must be where he was going. However, by the time she got there, the couple consisting of Christine and Raoul had all ready gone and the Phantom was no where to be seen. With a whisper of leather trousers, Meg made her way through the rippling water of the underground lake and stepped up onto the platform. She looked around at the ruined furniture, the torn screen plays, and other items that lay in chaotic piles around the floor. She stopped in the door way of a small bedroom, dominated by a large black swan bed, and stared at the lone occupant; a small, white half of a mask. She walked up to it, kneeling down to pick it up. She held it up in the light, so the white alabaster texture of the mask gleamed in the candle light. She frowned heavily. She had been terribly angry with him ever since he had struck her, but after what she had seen when Christine unveiled his ugliness, she now felt terrible for calling him a monster. She had meant "monster" as a monster of inner darkness, but he had probably seen it in reference to his outward appearance. With mask in hand, Meg stood and made her way to the broken open tunnel that lay behind an old mirror. She gulped audibly, before stepping through the door way and began making her way through the darkness, tucking the mask into the only "pocket" she had: the warmth of her cleavage.<p>

It took her a long while, wandering in the shadow and darkness, for her to catch up with the Phantom but when she did, she found him working on unscrewing the lid on an old manhole cover. She stepped up behind him, making sure to stay a respectful distance, and spoke in a soft, gentle tone. "I am sorry that happened."

Erik whirled to face her, his eyes glittering in the darkness but thankfully, she was unable to see anything else of his face. Since it was just his eyes, Meg found herself getting lost in their amber depths for a moment before his enraged and hurt voice brought her back to reality. "Do not patronize me, worthless ballet rat!" He gave a snarl, making her back up a few more steps. He turned and went back to his work. He was standing on an old wine barrel so he could reach the old manhole, since the ladder was so rusted through that if someone of his size tried to use it, then it would surely break underneath him.

"I guess I deserve that." Meg said softly, running a hand through her messy, sweat damp hair. "But, I didn't mean it to be patronizing." He r voice was soft but there was no hint of fear in her voice. She had grown a lot in the past few weeks, hardened herself, but inwardly, she was shaking like a leaf. He scared her in ways that no man had ever scared her, but not because of his looks; because of his anger, which she had gotten a bitter taste of the night he struck her.

He gave a bitter, hurt filled laugh but did not turn to look at her when he next spoke. "Oh, oui. That is what they all say."

Meg went quiet, trying to find the words to soothe his hurting soul. Christine had broken his heart, ripped it right out of his chest and shown it to all the world. Slowly, she began to sing a song that she had been working on whenever he came to her mind. "Send away for a perfect world, one not simply so absurd. In these times of doing what you're told, keep these feelings, no one know. What ever happened to the young man's heart? Swallowed by pain as he slowly fell apart."

Erik stopped what he was doing to look back at her when she stopped singing. She could see the glittering, liquid texture of his almost gold hued eyes. He was crying! This revelation shocked her into an even deeper silence. "How could she? How could she?" He sobbed as he all but fell from the barrel, collapsing into a heap in front of Meg from what she could tell by the sound. She was never very good at seeing in the dark. Using her hands, Meg felt her way through the shadow and found the softness of his hair. She knelt down next to him, running her hands through his hair in a smooth, gentle manner.

"I don't know." She consented as she tried her best to soothe away his hurt. "Christine never was good when it came to hard decisions." She felt him grab hold of her wrists suddenly, his grip so tight that it hurt her. She winced, but she didn't say anything.

"I would have given her the whole world on a platter if I could! And what does she want? A foppy play boy who will probably sleep around on her behind her back with hookers in brothels of all kinds!"

Meg was quiet as she listened to him. It was common for men to marry and then do such a thing in those times, but it sickened her to just think about it, which is why she planned never to marry. If she did marry, she planned on doing the same thing to her husband as he did to her. Yes, it might mar her reputation but she didn't care. Turn about was fair play, after all. After a moment of thoughtful silence, she said softly. "There are many fish in the ocean, Monsieur Phantom. Do not let this one ruin your taste for all of them." His sobs sent lightning jolts of pain through her heart and she slowly pulled him full into her arms, resting his head onto her shoulder. "Just let it out, just let it out." She soothed as she rocked him gently, running a hand through his hair. He sobbed into her shoulder, clinging to her so tight that his nails dug into her shoulders but she didn't flinch back. He needed someone and she was willing to be there for him. Once his sobs had receded enough for him to speak, Erik lifted his head and looked her in the face. Now that he was close enough for her to see his face, the shock of it made her rear backward. He gave a grim smile. "See? Even you aren't immune to this..." He waved a hand vaguely at his face. "beast, that I am."

"Well," Meg said slowly. "It is bad, but...not the worst I have ever seen." She gave a slow smile, showing that she still remembered what he had said to her that night, which seemed so long ago.

"I am so sorry that I struck you, Meghan. I should have not done that. A lady does not deserve to be hit, no matter what she has done or said." Erik said passionately. "Especially such a beautiful, beautiful angel like you." He reached out to touch her cheek with a shaking hand, but he pulled away quickly before the pads of his fingers touched the warm flesh. Meg felt her cheeks flushing again, and again, she thanked God for the darkness.

"If I was so beautiful," Meg reasoned, sorrow in her voice as she spoke. "Then I would all ready be married and happy with children. I'll be an old maid by twenty, I'm sure." She gave a bitter laugh, which he silenced quickly with a single finger pressed to her lips.

"That will not be your fate, little Giry. I assure you." He said softly.

Meg watched the glimmer of his eyes for several moments, before she slowly pulled him to stand up. "I...have something of yours." She said slowly as she reached into her shirt and pulled out his mask. She set it into his hands, but he pushed it back.

"I don't need it where I'm going." He said grimly as he moved away from her. With a final wrench, he pulled the man hole cover off and threw it aside, where it landed on the ground with a loud clank as the metal hit the stone floor that lay beneath them. Meg winced when the ringing caught her ears, making her head ring with the sound for several moments. What did he mean by that? She thought, confused for a moment but when it hit her that he might mean that he was going to kill himself, she launched herself after him. She clung to the first thing she could grab, which was his shirt tail, and held tight, keeping him from climbing out.

"No! Don't! It's not worth it! She's not worth it!" She pleaded.

"She's worth much more then my empty life." Came the reply, his voice deadened and empty. He made to pull away from her, but she clung on as tight as she could.

"No, please!" She said, tears starting to well in her eyes to fall down her face. "A beautiful soul like yours deserves to stay on this plane. We humans need an angel like you in our midst."

Erik turned and climbed down from the barrel, placing a hand on her warm cheek and feeling the tears there, he began to wipe them away with smooth, gentle movements. She was so soft, like rose petal. "No, this world is not ready for my kind of darkne-" He started to say but he was cut off when Meg did something so bold, so sudden that it shocked him into silence.

She kissed him.

Her kiss was a bit fumbly and awkward, as she had never kissed anyone before, but it was sweet and tasted like salty tears, like Christine's had, but hers had a passion that made his head spin. Meghan Giry was a passionate woman, while Christine was demure and lady like. The differences were obvious now. He returned the kiss fiercely, holding her tight to him; practically crushing her slim figure against him. She shuddered against his body, and slowly pulled away to sing softly against his mouth.

"If you ever find a moment, spare a thought for me."

He choked back tears of gratefulness. "Always, little Giry." He murmured, before gently kissing her delicately on the mouth before turning to leave.

"Just...don't kill yourself." She called after him.

He stopped at the top of the man hole, looking back at her and in the low light coming in from open hole, she could only see the handsome half of his face. It was a shame that such a handsome man had to be cursed with such a heinous deformity. "I won't promise anything." He climbed out. Meg chased after him one last time, looking up into the hole.

"Monsieur Phantom!"

He came back, looking down at her. "Oui?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

"...How do I get out? I can smell the smoke from the Opera House from here!" She called up to him. Erik went quiet. He had forgotten about the fire. Sighing heavily, he reached down to her through the hole. Meg, hesitantly, grabbed hold of him and quite easily, Erik lifted her out of the man hole. He set her down next to him on the street, the man hole having opened up into an empty alleyway.

"You should probably head to the Opera House and wait for your mother outside." He said softly, marveling at her beauty in the light of the moon that shone above them. Her very hair seemed to be lined with diamonds, her skin the color of alabaster, and her cheeks were beautifully flushed a soft, rose pink. How could he have been so blinded by Christine, not seeing the beauty of this dancing angel right before him? But it was too late now. He turned and fled suddenly, ignoring Meg's cry after him.

Sniffling back tears, Meg watched him leave. Softly, she sang under her breathe as she walked slowly back to the Opera House.

"Angel of music, hide no longer. Secret and strange angel."


End file.
